


Superluminal

by invisibledeity



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Nude Modeling, prompto gets lucky, that's pretty much it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 14:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledeity/pseuds/invisibledeity
Summary: Prompto's real serious about becoming a photographer. He's got a lot to learn, particularly where it comes to capturing the human form just right. He simply never thought he'd be lucky enough to land Nyx Ulric as his model.





	Superluminal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selador](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/gifts).



> Written for a Valentine's lucky draw on tumblr, which Selador won. Some lovely nude modelling between Nyx and Prompto was requested, and thus, you shall receive. These were totally meant to be drabbles, but this one kind of got away from me. Enjoy~

The camera shutter closes and opens again, on rapid-fire repeat. The room’s been set up to perfection, and the camera flash bounces off the light diffuser, splitting into softness around the muscle-bound model at the centre of the room. The man is clothed, but barely, and the tight gym t-shirt really brings out the muscles he’s gained as a result of his Kingsglaive training.

            Prompto’s hard at work, bent over the tripod as he frames the shot, then tries for another round. Snapping away again, multiple times, and maybe it’s too much, because his subject starts to squint.

            ‘Ah… sorry, man. Think I’m done from that angle now.’

            Nyx relaxes his pose and focusses on the sprightly photographer. It makes Prompto’s cheeks grow warm, because, isn’t Nyx the one who ought to be the focus here?

            ‘Not a problem,’ Nyx murmurs, and his low tone is infinitely sexy. Combine that with the sharp undercut, those little braids in the shaggy part of his hair, the five-o-clock stubble and that damn casual way he moves, Prompto can see why he has little problem with finding any love interests. And yeah, he’s often seen Nyx wandering around the Citadel grounds, or down to the street food markets late in the evenings, beset by hopeful young girls and guys.

            How did he get so lucky to get this guy modelling for him?

            ‘So this project of yours,’ Nyx says, ‘it’s for college, right?’

            ‘Yeah. Well, university.’

            ‘Oh, yeah. You’re like, twenty, right?’

            ‘Almost twenty-one.’

            ‘Sweet — then you can come out drinking with me and the gang.’

            Prompto can’t hide a smile. He’s seen Nyx’s friends many a time, while hanging around the Citadel waiting for Noctis. They always look so badass, and, well, the garb’s super awesome and all serious-looking, but despite all that they also look like pretty chill folk. Chill, non-Insomnian folk. Nyx is the only person he really knows from Galahd, and there’s something nice about that. Would be nice to be friends with more of them.

            Of course, Nyx doesn’t know he’s an outsider, too, and maybe he never will. But it’s a connection they have, and it makes Prompto feel an overwhelming affinity for the man.

            Maybe that’s why he latched on to him as a photography subject in the first place. And really, there’s a whole art school thesis to be found in that. Capturing the immigrant struggle for acceptance in the form of the perfectly-honed body. Human form as cultural currency. He sees the pattern reflected in himself, too — all those hard hours jogging, running, training — and in a way, the idea’s total art-wank, but it’s also kind of making him pause for thought. His teacher would probably love it.

            ‘Dude, that sounds awesome,’ he replies, filling the soft pause his wonderings have left.

            Nyx looks at him again, direct in the eyes, and it’s alarming in its intensity. His cheeks grow flush with warmth and an almost uneasy feeling creeps up his spine. It’s a good feeling though. Not something he’s had the chance to experience much before. Was it lust? Desire? Or just the warm buzz of attention being lavished upon him? He doesn’t get that much, popular as he makes himself out to be.

            ‘Did you want me to take the rest off, too?’ Nyx’s voice remains casual, but he’s motioning towards his top, and then to his pants, and fuck, Prompto can’t believe what he’s hearing. ‘I mean, since you mentioned you were studying the classical form,’ he adds.

            ‘I, uh…’ Theres no denying it would be incredibly useful for his studies. The photographers they’ve been studying in class have all made extensive use of fully-nude models, and gods, he really did love all that soft monochrome photography work. Really brought out the muscle definition in the subjects.

            ‘Y-yeah. Dude, if you don’t mind, that’d be… really cool.’

            Nyx smiles, and starts to undress.

            He thinks he has a black-and-white film somewhere. He fumbles about for it. He’ll have to modify the lighting a bit so it works better with monochrome, and that’s just as well, because it’s a suitable distraction while the man removes more and more layers.

            Prompto’s pretty sure he’s grown up enough to not steal a sly glance as Nyx takes off his boxer shorts. He thinks he’s grown up enough not to suffer an unbearable reddening of the cheeks when faced with the other man’s dick, which is, rather unhelpfully, of considerable length even in such an inert and flaccid state.

            But he proves himself wrong.

            Hopefully, Nyx won’t notice. And now that well-hung image is going to be stuck in his head for ages to come. Gonna be burned onto camera film too, and gods, again, how did he get this lucky?

            ‘Where do you want me?’ Nyx says when he’s done, and oh, wow. Where does he want him indeed.

            Come on, all business now. ‘If you could… move over there. By the bookcase. Sorta… look up a little, no, angle your chin. Yeah. Perfect.’

            That’s honest-to-gods saliva pooling beneath his tongue as Nyx puts one hefty thigh on the small wooden step-ladder next to the bookcase, as one arm drapes casually across one of the shelves, as the other holds loose around his haunches, where the muscles are most well-sculpted. When Prompto thinks about perfect human form, yeah, those are the bits he most wants to grip.

            Ah, fuck. He’s kind of smitten, and he doesn’t want to admit it.

            He takes a deep breath in, winds on the film, and this time he removes the camera from the tripod so he can move around for a better shot.

            He finds a few irresistible angles and snaps away.

            Nyx swaps out for a slightly different position after a while, and then again, until now he’s leaning back against the bookcase, arms stretched up above him tantalisingly. Depending on how Prompto frames the shot, it’s as if he’s either held there by some invisible force, all teasing and mildly in peril, or as if he’s enjoying a lazy sunday morning and is just daring the viewer to come interrupt him. Both angles make him shiver.

            He finishes the reel and turns back for another.

            ‘Damn, only colour film left now,’ he mutters. He winds on the film anyway, and takes a few extra shots. Good to compare that with the monochrome, at any rate.

            When he’s pretty much done, he stands back by the studio lights, sighing and fiddling with his camera’s settings. He’s taken so many photos, and while he wouldn’t mind taking even more, he can’t really justify it other than to sate his own desires. So he stops.

            ‘Thanks, man.’

            ‘So when am I gonna get to see these shots?’

            ‘Should be a few days. You’re, uh, welcome to swing by on Saturday to see how they came out.’

            Nyx smirks. Gods, he’s looking at him like he has him all figured out.

            ‘Wait, don’t move,’ Nyx says. ‘Your hair looks… kind of nice all lit up with the lights like that. ‘Specially with the blond.’ He stops, reconsiders. ‘Kind of nice, no. Scratch that. It looks stunning.’

            ‘It, uh… it does?’ Prompto isn’t prepared for compliments, he’s hanging like a faulty dial tone as he searches for a more appropriate thing to say, and it’s all the pause Nyx needs to continue.

            ‘Yeah, you look like some kind of holy painting or something. Wait, no, hold it there. I think you ought to be the focus for this one.’

            Wait, really? Prompto can’t believe what he’s hearing. But then Nyx is coming closer and — wow, he really is very naked — and he’s picking up the camera from Prompto’s trembling hands and turning the camera on him instead.

            Prompto freezes, a rabbit in the headlights, and he holds perfect position, just as Nyx instructed, both hands not quite sure what to do now he's not gripping his camera, and his lips parted in a loose ‘o’ shape.

            Nyx lifts the camera, examines the settings, and after a short pause, he takes the shot. For a second, Prompto’s eyes blur with the flash, and it’s totally weird, being on this side of the lens. Nyx seems satisfied, and he sets the camera down on the table. Smiles like christmas came early.

            ‘You’re really cute, you know that?’

            Fuck, what the hell does he say to that? He chokes up a little, then manages to get out, ‘I was, ah, kinda thinking the same about you. Well. Not cute. But like, really hot. I mean, uh, handsome.’

            _Stop it while you’re ahead, Prompto._

He’s so busy cursing himself inside his head that he doesn’t realise Nyx is about to hold his cheeks in those warm, strong hands until it’s too late. He could whimper with the attention he’s getting, and as he remembers just how naked Nyx is, he tries, very hard, not to look down.

            He doesn’t get the chance, anyway, because right then, Nyx kisses him. The man’s lips are firm and his kiss is bold, and Prompto’s completely swept away by it. He presses in to the kiss, feels the stubble more acutely against his chin, and slides his tongue between Nyx’s lips. The response is immediate, as Nyx grips him more fervently, only stopping when they knock the camera lights backward.

            A soft ‘oh’ escapes his mouth as Nyx pulls away, and he strains forward ever so slightly, earning himself a soft stroke of the hair.

            ‘Mm — you taste every bit as sweet as you look,’ Nyx says. He grins at Prompto again, and there, that twinkle returns in his eyes and yeah, he really does have Prompto all figured out, doesn’t he?

            He dresses himself casually, as though it’s no big deal, and the detachment is kind of hot. Prompto’s buzzing with energy, all heady and totally tripping out from the experience, and so he just contents himself with watching.

            When Nyx is done, he hefts his jacket over his shoulder, and heads for the door.

            ‘Wait… you sure you don’t want a coffee or something? Before you go?’

            ‘Nah, I’m good. Got a shift in an hour, so I’d better get headed over there.’

            Made sense. The metro was a nightmare at this time of day.

            ‘’Kay. But, uh, thanks. Again.’

            ‘Not a problem, blondie. I’ll see you on Saturday. And you can consider that shot I snapped of you as payment, okay?’

            ‘Okay,’ Prompto replies, all too quickly, all too eagerly, and his gaze lingers on Nyx’s disappearing form. Saturday can’t come fast enough.


End file.
